There was a ghost in art class today.
At first I thought she was a new student. From behind, she’s a passer, just a girl with wildly curly hair. I walked in and spotted her and wouldn’t have known the difference if she hadn’t turned around. I guess I’m impressed that she can still paint with her eyes gouged out.
The eyes didn’t bother me. I’ve seen worse. But the fact that I couldn’t immediately tell she was a ghost…I can’t handle that. I don’t mind feeling them and seeing them and hearing them because at least it means I know where they are. Today? It was like looking down and suddenly realizing there’s a giant spider on my arm.
I almost turned around and left. I would have, if Teresa hadn’t pulled me over to our table. She’s so easy-going. It calmed me down, helped by the fact that the ghost disappeared.
I think I’m really starting to fall for Teresa. Today when she smiled at me I had this sudden urge to hug her as tightly as I could. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Maybe I would have done it, if the ghost hadn’t walked out of class with us.
Mama knew something was wrong. I might just stay in my room forever so she doesn’t get a chance to grill me about it. Actually, that would solve the ghost problem too. This plan has merit.
Teresa drew a picture of me and told me to keep it. Do I really look so angry to her?